


Synchronicity

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Intense Amounts of Military Shit, M/M, Military Broship, OO-RAH, Pre-Canon, Pre-Overwatch, SEP Program, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid was still rattling off to the nearest ear he could find, still gesturing in short, sharp movements, eyes wild.</p><p>Soothing his own nerves. He used to do the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synchronicity

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this at 3 am one night. i didnt expect to finish it but for those of you who have read this i might hit this up again and complete it soon. ty for reading and giving my non-writer ass a chance

“Yeah, I don’t think I could ever go back either, honestly.”

 “Yeah? You and half the force, man.” Fingers the seams on his fatigues, laughs under his breath, other hand tapping some rapid beat on his thigh. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to handle the silence. It’s the quiet that gets you, you know. You’d get two days in and scratch at the walls, no RTOs in your ear, no Humvee mufflers backfiring over--”

 “I get it. Yeah.”

 “Right? Hah--Jesus, I just feel like they make us all accustomed to this shit, the noise, the violence; the government’s making us these pawns void of all life, man. Sure I can go back home, walk in a bar and fuck up anyone I like now, but it’s weird here you know? Like, homes, I could probably _swim_ in pussy once I’m back but what happens if I die from the silence first? Jesus Christ, or fucking, an omnic blast straight to the dick, oh man, can you imagine--”

 “Sure. Government. Pussy. Got it.”

 Jack gets up, hands mirroring the guy now below him, fiddling with his own seams. He shoots him a terse half smile before walking off, feet awkwardly trying to point forwards, keep him moving. Kid was still rattling off to the nearest ear he could find, still gesturing in short, sharp movements, eyes wild.

 Soothing his own nerves. He used to do the same thing.

 Knowing that this was a real war now and not some fake-out had the rookies hanging awkwardly around the tents, grandstanding their standard issue M4s, spit-cleaned and wiped down, hands clenched, jaws set. Prepared. Frightened to all hell.

 No one could have expected the uprising, he’d personally heard reports on the comms back on base in Virginia that omnic ticket inspectors were some of the first wave to go rogue. Hundreds killed with nowhere to go. Crammed together in a Vladivostok subway car, every scream for help oblivious to the world above. Then came the reports of cashier omnics, surgeon assistants, janitorial and security bots stuffed in low level apartment lobbies. Suddenly the country was in a state of emergency, borders closed, airspace limited, forces mobilized. Jesus, not even a few months later it hopped waters--

 “Hah! ¡Estás comiendo moscas!”

 “What? No, I-- Gabe. Shit. What’s up?” Rapidly blinking, Jack shakes his head around to get himself out of barely concealed stupor. Incredible. One week in and it takes talking to Chatter House Chad for five whole minutes before he starts believing whatever shit he’s spewing for the day.

 “Ain’t nothin’, man. You just walked in and kinda stood at the flaps for a minute or so. Barely even noticed you honestly.”

 Reyes stands up from where he was lying in his cot, arms now crossed, magazine thrown off to the side as he flexes a little. Looks Jack up and down, eyes lingering on his mouth for a little too long when Jack notices and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 “Don’t tell me you went and tried to fraternize with the rest of the company. You know nothing ever comes from it aside from you thinking it assuages your own nerves. Chill out, kid.”

 “I’m barely a year younger than you. C’mon, man.”

 “Still younger. Still under me, you damn boot.”

 “Completely and totally not a boot,” Jack grins, shoulders relaxing. “and hey, at least I’m not the one using my own money to grab new brake calipers for the ride.”

 “That. That doesn’t even make sense man, your number one comeback consists of me being efficient and astute? Does me being a good sergeant bug you, golden boy?”

He turns to start walking away but decides against it, still unsure of his footing, still unsure of where he lies in Gabe's good graces. 

 “No, Jesus. Hah, I’m fine, just... Also a little fucking lost. Hell a lot fucking lost right now honestly.” Jack trails off, absentmindedly rubbing at the back of his neck.

 “Definitely caught that when you walked in looking like you planted sativa up your ass.”

 “It’s the suddenness of it all. We’re here in Samara. In Russia. I’m here with you, you’re here in your uncomfortable cot flicking through, yeah, what is that, Cosmo? It’s goddamn 4 am and we’re in Russia. I’ve got my own rifle now, I’ve got this ugly as hell coat because Russia is so fucking cold. Jesus.”

 “Hey, run it by me again, where are we?” Gabe laughs, barely concealing his smirk.

 “Seriously. Not even a year ago I was brushing boots and on my face on floor mats back on base. Not even two years ago I was halfway between becoming some farm boy for the parents and working some parts job. Now suddenly… we’re here. Fighting. This is real.”

 Jack cuts himself short at the last word, words barely leaving his lips before he realizes Gabe is looking forward, eyes barely moving, looking past him as if he’s not even there. He quickly turns around to see if anyone’s behind him outside of the tent before he catches Gabe gesturing for him to join him on his cot.

 Gabe sits down first, back of his knees already brushing against the cot from when he stood up not even 5 minutes ago. He looks around briefly before he starts moving. Coffee machine stuck on the rickety table in the middle of the tent, put on a proverbial pedestal by Chad. Speaks to what little they have now. Thing’s half covered with gun oil and letters sent from school kids that smell of grape markers and glitter glue. Jack can barely make out the rest of the guys fast asleep at the other end of the tent, someone’s satellite radio barely whispering out some chorus of some classic rock song, interspersed by the static and crackles of a bad receiver. He’ll have to fix it later.

 Finally looking over at Reyes makes his jaw set, he has his elbows pointedly digging into his thighs as he sits forward, staring between the ground and the door and back again. Wonders to himself what set him off, mentally backtracks to the last things he said. Farms, mats, something about the cold? He finds himself in front of Gabe, goes to move around him and sits down. Feels something different in the air this time, steels for it.

 He leaves enough room between them that he physically is able to given the size of the damn cot, but Reyes pays no attention to it. His shoulders tense as Jack sits down.

“Scarface took me aside a few hours ago.” Gabe takes in a large breath, holds it while he feels Jack’s whole body tense. Scratches at his hairline while he sneaks a side glance.

 “Right. What’d he want? Old man finally got you in under his thumb now?”

 “You and me, actually, yeah.”

 “Me?”

 “And me, yeah. You remember back on base when you joked about shooting hajjis and being seen as a God to half of the other ones you didn’t kill?”

 “Not seeing where this is going. Fuck, we’re not even in the desert now. Wasted potential-”

 “God. Playing God.”

 “Again, Gabe, I---”

 “Secret program. Enhancements, ruining our bodies, elevated inhibitors, syringes, fuck, I don’t know what else. We were picked for the SEP, Jack.”

 Jack looks over at Gabe, meets his eyes as they bore into him, greedily taking in every minute movement in his face. His own eyes dart over everything, bounce between Gabe's nose, the door, the floor. He looks at his hands as they start to still from the fidgeting he absentmindedly started when he sat down. He swallows, can feel every muscle in his neck snake and move as he tries again and nearly chokes. Someone starts to talk in their sleep.

 He looks back at Gabriel, “You’re fucking kidding.” his eyes still staring at Gabe’s, meeting his glance while barely blinking.

 He’d only ever heard whispers of the program from other guys he did drills with. Higher ups having stilted conversations behind thin walls and even thinner doors back on base. This couldn’t be real though, why the hell would the U.S have a legitimate secret program? Why the hell weren’t the regular military enough? What was coming?

 “I can hear you thinking from here, man. Felt the same way a few hours back. One reason I came back to try and sleep, failed at it obviously.”

 “You seem so casual about it all, don’t you feel skeptical at all? Intrigued?”

 “Flattered?” Gabe bites back.

 “Of course.” He feels his eyes roll back into his head.

 “You know me, I work my ass off to get noticed, man. Of course I’m going to see this as the XO personally telling me ‘good job’.”

 Jack lowers his voice to a whisper, stealing furtive glances back every few seconds to check that the other guys are still asleep. “This is big, Gabe. What exactly is coming? Why aren’t the regular forces enough? Are we last defense? Is this legal?” He starts rubbing the back of his neck again. A habit picked up from his dad.

 “Apparently we get briefed tomorrow. I know barely more than you.”

 “You’d think they’d, uh, y’know, let you in on what exactly the program is. Jesus, real smart to lay that on you in the dead of night, though. Very kind.”

 “Nah, remember it’s around 8 back in D.C right now, probably called it in while bent over some huge oval desk full of papers. Not expecting the thugocracy to sleep during a war anyway.”

 “Bent over a desk, huh? You think the first lady is in there helping?”

 “Jack, Jesus!” Both of their shoulders start to relax, bumping shoulders and trying to keep quiet while laughing, Jack still keeping an ear open for any of the guys waking up. Ever the saint. He has no idea how he ended up saddled close to Reyes in the span of a few minutes. His thighs firmly pressed against his, Jack’s huge coat arms brushing against Gabe’s bare ones. They both stop laughing, enjoying the closeness.

Gabe lies back, horizontal across the bed, legs still bent over the edge, feet barely touching the floor now. Jack puts his one arm behind him, propping his upper body on the one arm while he unzips his coat. Goes to rub the back of his neck again and ends up half-falling back.

 “Y’know white boy, I’m gunna miss this.”

 “Oh, please. Acting as if we’ve left for this secret fucking science lab already.”

 “Sit back with me, compadre. C’mon.”

 “Yeah, and have half the platoon wake up at once and zoom in on us sharing body heat.”

 “We’re talking and chilling, not fucking. Let ‘em watch anyway, they can give points to whoever bounces best.”

 “I wouldn’t even be able to fit, what with the huge stick up your ass.”

 “Hey, vato. Watch it. I know you white trash hillbilly fucks are used to bunking with guys, but watch that shit around me and my beautiful stickless ass.”

 “Did Scarface fit? God, I wonder if he fit. Did it hurt? Having two huge shit dicks up your ass?” They were both increasing in volume now, Jack lying parallel to Gabe. Jack’s coat now discarded on the floor. “Hey, what were you reading Cosmo for anyway?” Jack whispers between giggling fits.

 “What? Guy can’t enjoy the finer points of civilization while overseas?”

 Jack’s now grinning from ear to ear, pushes against Gabe, eyes rolling.“I walked in on you fucking jerking it.”

 “Totally did.”

 “You fuckin’ deplorable animal. You stain the page?”

 “Well, technically didn’t start yet. You and your translucent pale glowing ass wandered in just as I got to the lingerie ads. Like Jesus floated through, that’s how pale you were. Just pure white, loaf of bread gallivanting around the tent flaps. Couldn’t jerk it when Dempster’s set up a convention 5 meters away.”

 “Yeah, yeah, at least tell me you and your XO-fondled limp dick are still fucking limp.”

 “You got an obsession with my dick, man?” Gabe was now turned sideways, composure pliant and relaxed, eyes watching Jack for some tell of a joke, a retort.

 Jack tries everything in his power to not get hard, focuses on the guys asleep not even a few meters behind them. Imagines the president getting finger blasted by the first lady on the oval desk. Imagines running his fingers through Gabe’s hair. Tries to push back the inconsolable feeling of fear and shame run that through him. Both for the very real briefing they’re getting in a few hours, and for letting himself get tired enough to harbor fucking romantic thoughts for Reyes. He licks his lips and shifts his weight around, now on his side directly facing him.

 “Nah.” Radio still humming in the background, static and all. "Just enjoying this before it's gone and we end up killing each other out of hate or something. Fuck, have you seen what enhancements do?"

 "Best watch your ass then, kid. I'll beat you to the top if you ain't quick enough."  
  
"I wouldn't even be surprised, man." Jack smiles, lets his arm rest over Gabe's. "Wouldn't even be surprised."


End file.
